Hold on to what is good even if it is a handful of earth.
Hold on to what you believe even if it is a tree which stands by itself.
Hold on to what you must do even if it is a long way from here.
Hold on to life even when it is easier letting go.
Hold on to my hand even when I have gone away from you.
- Pueblo Blessing
Monday, May. 23, 2005 - 5:40 a.m.
WARNING!!!! if you know me personally, you may read my diary, but if you do, you take the chance of hearing things you don't want to know, misunderstanding what I've written and being hurt by it. If you are unsure if it is ok to read, save yourself and me the grief and heartache, and ask first!!! Please note that this is a DIARY, ie my subjective feelings, hearsay, suppositions, and outpourings of ranting of the moment. It does not represent objective news, the whole of what I think of a topic or someone, or even a thought-out representation of any of the above. Keep that in mind. Thanks. * Here is a Diary Etiquette Read Me.
Pencils Protruding from Palms
Youch!!
One doesn't really think about being careful with .5mm pencils do they. hmmm. Well, yes, for some reason I was holding mine (which I do about 50% of the day) but with the point towards me, to put it back on my desk. And caught the edge of the desk with it. With the eraser end. And the forward momentum of my hand, together with the braking of the pencil, jabbed the lead into the palm of my hand. Yikes!!
So, of course, being a thin pencil lead, it broke off. I tried to dig it out with a tweezers. But when you squeeze a pencil led with metal tweezers, it just abrades away. Dang. I really thought it only went in a millimetre or two. So I got out a needle when pushing (where I thought the )end of it was didn't work it out.
Jeepers... Lots of those pencils um, "advance" the lead when you push on the eraser end. uhuh. Turns out the piece in my hand was a good 3/8 of an inch long. Crikey. No wonder it wasn't easy to just sort of "squish" out.
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And just cuz I know you are DYING for a closeup. Unfortunately I did NOT think to scan my hand before pulling it out! oh well! :
So be careful with your school supplies, kiddies!
Well, today I managed to um, not get much done. How. Why. I dunno. I had a long phone conversation with a good friend about her new job, her life, etc, and about my adoption interest.
I looked at this website for open adoption that accepts people of every sexual orientation. And I dunno. There is this page of letters to potential birth mothers. Halfway through reading Mark and Steven's letter I just got dejected and burst out sobbing. I dunno. What is it. How cleancut they are? All the nephews and nieces? The fact that they are in a loving couple? That they have great jobs and seem so perfect?
I realize that I am just not such a good advocate for myself. I was thinking of that while reading this one very long blog about adopting from the Ukraine where the couple was asked "Why is your family better than any other family for this child?" when they were in court asking to adopt him. Fuck I'd just give up at that point. Or burst out crying.
My family is NOT better than EVERY other family out there wanting a child. I don't speak Ukranian, I do not have a father for the kid, or even another parent. My father is a pain, my mother has a chronic disease, they both live thousands of miles away. My grandparents are dead. I am not the most socially skilled person. I am not totally involved in my community. I get overwhelmed by my schedule when I take classes, and end up dumping my yoga class, or my flamenco recital repetitions. I don't like team sports. I am sort of an independent loner. I talk too loud. I carry on. I go on and on about topics, and overexplain. I can be depressive and self-destructive (and let's not forget self-abasing hehe). I don't have a car to run the kid around in. Or a dental plan. I don't have paid maternity leave and I am not eligible for unemployment benefits. I am the shits at choosing good relationship partners, so how can I help a child with that?
I think I'd be as good a mother as the next person on my street (yeah, the next person on my street is a single mom, a loner, keeps to herself, works in graphic art... hehe) but that is not the point. I am competing, yes, competing, with thousands upon thousands of couples and singles with more ressources than me. I am not giving birth to my own flawed by my own genetics and upbringing child. Dang.
Oh well. Y'all know I'm a trooper, so forward and onward in my obsessive compulsive information-gathering on adoption. I shall not give up yet. But who knows. And yeah, just reading that "letter" from Mark and Steven had me bawling all over my puter. Dang.
Anyways, being "out" was one of the issues that I was talking on the phone to my friend about. Open adoption would be the way to go... leaves it up to the birth mother to want you... instead of having some agency say "you are not acceptable", or more largely, a country such as China or Ukraine, who are not exactly known for their lifestyle progressiveness. It was funny at the Ukrainian adoption blog I was reading that the woman said "don't worry about what you wear, you will stick out like a sore thumb as an American no matter what you wear. The Ukranian women wear fashionable very tight clothing, with pointy highheeled shoes that may or may not provide traction on the ice, and fur coats. Older Ukranian women wear dresses with stockings/leggings, flat sensible shoes and babushkas". yikes. hehe.
OK, well, I'm gonna go to bed, since I got ONE, yes only ONE drawing for South Korea done today. Yikes. I was hoping for four. Dang. Tomorrow I guess. I should be drawing drawing drawing to earn money, and to free up some time to go for coffee with new boy, who invited me the other day, unfortunately when I had just started working. Hmmm. No idea what is up with me and new boy. I am just the shits at this. Oh well.
Nite nite! Be careful with pencils.
cheers!
wenchie
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previous meanderings - future past
Goodbye Michael. May your next life be kinder to you. - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Taking Care of Your Cows - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Saint Joseph robs the cradle and eats spaghetti - Sunday, Jun. 14, 2009
sticky notes and broken irises - Friday, Jun. 12, 2009
The FOODCOMMANDER - Monday, Jun. 08, 2009
